


Scott, Stiles, and the Seven Kingdoms

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Multi, Trans Scott, side Danny/Scott/Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 18:19:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2078307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Princess Scott and Stiles sitting in a tower, k-i-s-s-i-n-g.<br/>Royalty au- lady knights, childhood memories, and a dragon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scott, Stiles, and the Seven Kingdoms

**Author's Note:**

> if the art gets finished a link will go here ^.^
> 
> So, so, so many thanks to [Em/raisealittlehale](http://raisealittlehale.tumblr.com/) for beta-ing. <3

Ever since the chewing gum incident, Stiles had always brushed Scott's hair. It was intended as a punishment, with Stiles being ordered to care for Scott's hair until the chunk grew back; but Scott said it felt more soothing when he did it, and Stiles soon found that running the bristles through Scott's chocolate curls was one of the highlights of his day. The simple, personal act fostered a common intimacy between them. Scott's Dad, the King himself, would have never assigned the lighthearted punishment if he knew the closeness it would facilitate.

Once upon a time, you see, Scott's mother- Melissa Delgado, crown princess of the Delgado Kingdom- went on a tour to experience the world before becoming Queen and ruler of her land. She was young and naïve and brilliant, and her parents let her travel with only her personal guards and advisor. Kali, better known as the Dagger in the Night, led her guards. Kali was the deadliest woman in the land, and the main reason that Melissa felt safe sleeping beneath the stars as they traveled. Jennifer the Stealthy was her second-in-command, and, able to charm just about anyone, acted as a go-between for the guards and Kali. Marin, her advisor, had come along as well, more for comfort than for actual advice. The seven kingdoms had been at peace for nearly a decade, and the main interactions between them were all trade negotiations- a subject Melissa had excelled at last year. 

Melissa's grand trip was never completed, though; once she entered the McCall Kingdom, she didn't continue. Her people whispered that she'd been taken hostage, that the barbarians in the North had bewitched her, that her guards had deserted her. The reality was much more boring. She had stumbled into Prince Rafael in the marketplace, and they supped and talked throughout the day. One day turned into two, into three, and soon there was a ball and a proposal; and when Melissa finally returned to her kingdom, it was only for a visit and to bequeath it unto her sister, Tatiana.

Her sister had been disappointed, not in the kingdom, but that Melissa would never rule. Melissa had tentatively offered that Rafa might change policy. Tatiana had laughed, and said that the day a woman ruled in the North she would bear a son for the Southern crown rather than a daughter. Melissa had smiled then and patted the slight swell of her stomach, saying that if it were a boy, he had first dibs on the crown. 

Seven months later when Scott was born, named for Rafael's late grandfather, she jokingly told Tatiana to get a throne ready for her son. She didn't talk about how Rafa had only allowed her power over little things, and how his tune had soured over the year. It didn't matter- she was a Northern woman now, and she tried to adapt to their brand of strength. She would never really blend in, though; far too dark and far too aware.

Scott wouldn't either. Rafael tried to get Scott to fit in, but it was a lost cause after Scott's fourth birthday, when she wanted to be called princess instead of prince. It took Rafa a decade, and many long dinners with Melissa and Marin, but he finally got there. By that point, of course, Scott's feelings on gender had filled out more, and though she still wanted to be a Princess and have ‘her’ pronouns, some days she didn't feel like having any at all. But she didn't want to risk never having them, and it had been hard enough trying to explain why she wanted to keep her name rather than change it, so she made do.

Stiles got it. Stiles had been Scott's first real friend, not like the noble kids who sometimes tried to court her for the throne. When they were young they had bonded over their little necessary gadgets- Stiles' hearing aids and Scott's inhaler. The inhaler had been rendered useless after the seventh witch that visited the castle, and Scott couldn't help but be a little disappointed by her lighter pockets. It wasn't fair that she had gotten magically healed while Stiles couldn't. (Years later, she'd rage at her father about all the ill commoners that could have gotten better if the witch had seen them. She didn't even need it like they did- she could live with an inhaler; she didn't even mind. Rafa did, though- weakness wasn't royal.)

Their friendship was cemented before the chewing gum incident, before Scott didn't need an inhaler. They were six years old, and Stiles was reading a big book in the gardens. A few of the noble children- Ben, Mark, and Travis- had snatched the book out of Stiles’ hands, laughing when he frowned. 

"What? Sad we're taking your only friend away?" Travis jeered. 

"Just give it back," Stiles said, getting up from the bench.

Travis tossed the leather bound book to Mark with a smirk. "Nah, I don't think we will." 

The three tossed the book between themselves, snickering at Stiles’ attempts to retrieve his book, as he didn't have the height or the agility to get it back. 

"Aw, does the book remind you of your mommy?" Ben taunted, and Stiles attacked the boy without a second thought. He got a few decent hits in, but with Travis and Mark joining in, Stiles didn't have much of a chance. He was pleased, though, that his book had been forgotten on the granite bench. 

"What's going on here?" a voice interrupted, and four heads turned to see their Princess. 

"Uh, nothing," Mark muttered, and they all backed away from Stiles' fallen body. 

Scott cocked her head. "I think you three should leave the gardens. Now." 

"Yes, _Princess_ ," Travis answered, and the three left with one last glare at Stiles' rumpled form. 

"Hey, you okay?" Scott asked, giving him a hand up and a smile. 

"Thank you, Princess," Stiles said, a deep flush on his face as he swiped some dirt off his mouth. 

"Scott is fine.” Her eyes landed on the book. "What are you reading?" 

Stiles grinned. "Okay, Scott. It's a book of epic poems... wanna read with me?" 

"Sure," Scott said, and the two ended up on the stone bench, the large book covering both of their laps as they read. That day was the first time Scott had enjoyed poetry, from _La Loba_ to _Unicorns Through the Night_ to _Allneis: The Founding of the Finstock Islands_. It was more fun reading with Stiles, and afterwards they would talk about what they liked and didn't, or act out the more amusing scenes. Scott's favorite was a scene with the first time a pegasus and unicorn met; Stiles claimed he could never pick a favorite, but he tended to gravitate towards the historical ones. 

Scott and Stiles became inseparable- riding horses together, swimming in the sea, and, after The Incident, Stiles brushing Scott's hair every evening. (The mornings were usually claimed by the court hairdresser.) So when Isaac entered the picture when they were both sixteen, Stiles didn't like him. He didn't like the way Isaac was so much taller than Scott, or how she gave him special smiles sometimes. Those were _Stiles'_ smiles, and pretty boy Isaac didn't deserve them. 

When Rafa stumbled upon them necking in the tearoom, Stiles tried not to be too gleeful. That would be unseemly, and he _should_ be disappointed, on Scott’s behalf, by the end of her whirlwind romance. Rafa did not take the discovery well, and went to his advisors immediately. He demanded to know if there were any princes she could be betrothed to, if it would be too much to send her to the church, if Melissa knew about this. 

Scott's punishment was handed down within a fortnight, and it seemed superior to the rumors floating around- but not by much. Scott would be holed up in a tower a day's ride from the castle, and would live chastely until a prince 'rescued' her. Her parents argued for a week over amenities, most of the details under wraps, but it was known that Melissa conceded to the presence of a dragon and that Rafael allowed Stiles to go for company and as a close guard. They got a kick out of that, and neither brought it up with Scott's Dad. Stiles wasn't a bad fighter, but if it came down to it, Scott would be defending him. And Stiles wasn't quite as homosexual as the King and Queen believed him to be, what with him having been caught numerous times with the stable boy Boyd- it was simply luck, and Erica's fine hearing, that he'd never been caught with both of them at the same time. Now that would have caused an uproar- especially as Erica was old blood, distantly related to the McCall line. As it hadn't, though, Stiles and Scott packed up for their temporary home. 

Scott was careful to look contrite when she hugged her family goodbye and as she and Stiles rode off. She _was_ upset about not seeing them, but her mother had promised to send letters along with their weekly supplies. And, well... it sounded a lot like a giant sleepover with her best friend. She figured at most they'd be away for a month, then they'd come back with her new fiancé and there would be feasting and rejoicing. 

It took longer than a month. 

"What are you thinking about?" Scott asked, as Stiles gently pulled through a small tangle. 

Stiles’ fingers followed the brush, checking that the knot was completely gone. "It's been ninety-four days." 

" _Dude_ ," Scott said, "I told you not to keep count. It's depressing and it makes this seem like a punishment." 

Stiles rolled his eyes. "You're right, on my usual vacations I spend the first week freeing a dragon and then setting up nonlethal traps for guests." 

"You get guests while you're on vacation? That's pretty weird, man," Scott joked, leaning her head back against Stiles' chest.

Stiles gently pushed her head forward, "I still need to do the back. And you know what I mean." 

"Well, I'm glad we let Matilda go. Poor Greenberg would probably be dead if we hadn't," Scott said with a frown. 

"Yeah, starving dragons aren't really social creatures. Pity, it was pretty cool to be able to say we had a pet dragon for a bit," Stiles said, pinning some hair up to reach the section underneath. 

Scott's nose twitched. "And what kind of message would it send if our 'pet' dragon just ate up all my suitors?" 

Stiles smirked and took the bait. "That you're the most desirable princess in the land? That none can withstand your awesomeness?" 

Scott's head dropped forward as Stiles' fingers squeezed the back of her neck, and she murmured, "They'd say I must be killer in bed." 

Stiles could hear the frown in her voice, and he said, "You're not, though, and Allison and Jackson and Derek and Kira are all happily living... probably. I wouldn't mind if Jackson wasn't." 

Scott perked up a bit, shaking her head. "Just because Jackson didn't get that princesses can have dicks too doesn't mean he deserves to die." 

Stiles grinned, unpinning the top section to brush it next. "Maybe he doesn't _deserve_ it per se, I just wouldn't object if he happened to trip into a moat full of piranhas." 

Scott sighed. "One of these days something awful like that is going to happen, and you'll be so guilty over it." 

Stiles cackled, finishing Scott's hair, and lightly clasped her shoulders. "Yeah, right. More like you'll feel guilty you didn't magically warn them.”

He tilted his head, considering; Scott’s hair was finally long enough… "Want a braid?" Stiles asked.

"Yes, please, and maybe you'll have better morals by the time you’re done," Scott answered. 

Stiles snorted and didn't dignify that with a further response. He thought back to the three errant knights that had made him begrudgingly grateful they’d let Matilda free. Derek had been searching for years, the poor thing, a witch having transported his sisters and uncle to an unknown tower. Allison had been more than a little annoyed to learn they weren't in need of actual rescuing, and had been affronted by the suggestion of romance- ' _I rescue for the good of the people, not out of some selfish desire!_ ' Kira had been their coolest visitor in Stiles' opinion- not only was she a knight, but she'd also studied magical creatures under the elusive warlock Deaton. Dragons were her specialty, and she traveled the Kingdoms making sure they were healthy; sometimes, she even rode them through the sky. Both of them tried not to look _too_ disappointed when Kira chirpily said no thanks to a date- her only loves were skies and scales. 

"Stiles," Scott said suddenly, breaking his train of thought, "what if a knight comes that I actually like?" 

"You can have them come back every Sunday for dinner and get to know them," Stiles deadpanned, the latest iteration of the braid looking smooth. He deftly maneuvered the elastic from his wrist to around Scott's hair and examined his work. 

"What would you do?" she asked, catching Stiles' eyes in the mirror. 

Stiles brushed off the heaviness with a shrug. "I'd be the best chaperone ever and allow you two to make out a bit before emptying the water jug on you." 

"I, uh, don't think that'd work..." Scott said, trailing off and blushing. 

Stiles eyebrows jumped up. "You minx! Tough, Rafa would kill me if your virtue was tainted."

Scott's blush deepened and she hastily said, "N-not what I meant. I've never... I don't know if I'd be any good at kissing." 

Stiles' brows shot up even further and an obnoxious pretty boy came to mind. "What about Isaac?" 

Scott sighed and turned to face Stiles directly. "My Dad came in during our first kiss." 

"Oh," Stiles said, a hand tugging through his own hair, trying to keep the glee out of his voice. "Sorry, that sucks." 

"What if I'm the first princess who can't kiss well? What if the most perfect person comes and they want something more?" Scott asked, visions of terrible first dates running through her mind. 

"Scott. If _anyone_ thinks your kissing skills are more important than the rest of you, they're a moron anyways and you can do better," Stiles said firmly, tilting Scott's chin up to meet her eyes. 

Scott's lips were still pursed though, and she said petulantly, "I'd still like to be better." 

"Well it's a shame Matilda's off terrorizing the local sheep, I'm sure she'd give you some pointers on fiery kisses-" Stiles joked, cut off by Scott's nimble fingers tickling him. 

"So not helpful," Scott said, halting her tickle attack so that Stiles could breathe.

"You could kiss your hand? Isn't that what all the chaste court ladies do?" Stiles suggested. 

Scott snorted, "A hand isn't going to provide feedback." 

"No," Stiles said preemptively, "I'm _not_ sneaking your lover boy in here for you to kiss." 

Scott laughed at the idea. "Don't be ridiculous, I'm sure someone's watching Isaac to make sure he doesn't come here. You're already here, though." 

"I'm affronted by the mere _suggestion_ that you think I'd break my promise to your parents like that," Stiles said, turning up his nose dramatically.

Scott stood then, only an inch shorter than Stiles, their faces close. "I believe you promised to keep others from defiling me." 

Stiles flushed darkly at that and coughed. "I thought you only wanted kissing feedback?" 

Scott grinned, knowing he'd agreed. "For now." 

"For-?!" Stiles began, and Scott cut him off, kissing the incredulous words off his lips. Kissing Stiles was a complete contradiction- it was familiar and new all at once, thrilling and mundane, easy and incredibly difficult. The mechanics were simple, and she found herself being struck by how odd it all was. Stiles' tongue was in her mouth, one of the few places he hadn't been before. His hands had wrapped around her back and up to her shoulders, identical to his usual goodnight hugs. When she pressed closer to him, he had to break for air, and the small noise that escaped his lips charged their next kiss. Scott had long forgotten about the feedback, only caring for where he would move next and how he would touch her. 

The next few days passed with lots of canoodling, and Stiles was grateful Scott hadn't tried anything more. Anything more would have led to guilt- for going further when he knew he wasn't supposed to, or for _not_ doing so, since Scott wanted him to. Things were pretty much back to normal after the first week. Stiles had made an offhand comment that Scott kissed really well, and rather than stopping, she just smiled and kissed him again.

They began sharing a bed shortly after they started kissing. Scott discovered she liked being kissed to sleep, and often by the time she fell asleep Stiles was too tired and comfortable to go back to his room. Stiles began to focus more on reading poetry to Scott for her literature lessons, whispering centuries of velvet words into her ear. It was the most romantic Stiles allowed himself to be, a small voice in the back of his head reminding him not to fall in love with his future Queen. He loved Scott, of course; he had ever since they’d skipped the Argent delegates’ visit together. They were both nine, and they’d spend the time hiding in the old servants' hallways and giggling as they discovered more secret passageways and hidden eyeholes. (It was only funny when they were young; once they aged it became terrifying, with what could happen if the wrong person were in those walls.) 

Scott had figured out her feelings sooner than Stiles; a season earlier, to be exact, and having skipped yet another formal appearance. Dressing for court was always a tricky thing for Scott- especially at age eight. If she didn't want to argue with her Father, she'd wear the formal, dark, boy’s clothes on her bed. (To make things worse, some days she _wanted_ to wear them and that made no sense.) But whenever she wore the clothes set out for her, the next time she tried to be called Princess, they were thrown back in her face. So most days she picked a dress from her closet instead, and dealt with the snide comments. This day, though, Scott was _done_ , laying atop her bed in casual clothes and wishing to disappear. 

Stiles’ usual pattern of knocks sounded at the door; after she shouted her permission, he came in. "Thinking about getting ready, Princess?" 

Scott frowned, "Don't call me that today." 

"As you wish, Your Majesty." 

Scott made a face, and Stiles bit back a wide grin. 

"How about Your Radiance? Your Grace? Your Swiftness of Foot? Your Brilliance? Your Magnificence?" At each suggestion Scott's expression lightened, and the tunic and dress were briefly forgotten. 

"Shut up," Scott said, blushing lightly, "let's get out of here." The two snuck out successfully, spending the day in a nearby lagoon. And in the middle of playing merfolks and unfortunate sailors, Scott just knew: it was love. 

Navigating clothing for public consumption got easier- barely- as Scott got older. Once she was presented as a Princess to the court, her Father kept an even closer eye on what she wore. She tried wearing riding pants once at fifteen, thinking that surely the stables didn't matter- and got yelled at until the dinner bell rang. It was endearing and offensive, and Scott couldn't decide which was worse: his new 'support' or his previous denial. (Scott and Stiles ended up skipping a lot of the inessential court affairs, and one of the King's advisors- Stiles' Father- even covered for them sometimes.)

The last morning of their stay in the tower began like any other. Scott woke up first and poked Stiles awake, biting back a laugh when he just cuddled into her more and tried to fight off the morning. 

Stiles finally opened his eyes when Scott's poking turned panicked, as he realized that she’d been speaking too fast and low to be caught. Stiles grabbed his hearing aids off of the side table, sliding them in quickly and saying, "What's the matter?" 

Scott smiled angelically, "I was just trying to tell you that you didn't have your hearing aids in." 

"Jerk," Stiles said without any bite. 

"That's Princess Jerk to you," Scott said, sticking her tongue out. 

"Yes, Princess Jerk," Stiles conceded with a yawn and stretch. 

For breakfast they warmed up some bread and cheese, and afterwards Scott bathed and Stiles brushed out her wet curls. 

"What do you want to do today?" Stiles asked as the heavy brush pressed pleasantly through her hair to her scalp. 

"Mmm, read to me?" Scott half-asked, half-suggested, relaxed and pliant from the hot bath and having her hair brushed. 

"Sure," Stiles chirped grabbing a heavy, leather-bound tome. "We haven't finished history for this week anyways." 

Scott groaned and whined, "I wanted to hear _La Loba_." 

Stiles sat on their couch and patted the spot beside him, "C'mon, you practically know it by heart. By now you _are_ the she-wolf. Let's just do history?"

Scott grumbled and sat down. She was the royalty here, dang it, her word was supposed to be law!

"We can read the whole poem after lunch," Stiles conceded, opening the book up to the last marked page. 

"That works," Scott said, pleased, leaning her head on Stiles' shoulder to read along with him. 

"Let's see... so the Hale kingdom and the Argent insurgents were fighting when we left off. 'After the Rose Wars, the Argents declared all Hale land north of Ironhurst to be theirs. The Hales would spend half of the next century trying to reclaim it, but, not having the manpower or economic power to succeed, they ultimately retreated and redrew their kingdom boundaries to exclude Ironhurst and the lands above. As the Hale Kingdom lost its most prosperous cities, it would never regain its former glory. Conversely, the Argents began to flourish in their new land. They called it-' "

"Seriously?" Scott interrupted, incensed. "Who wrote this? Why isn't it talking about the systematic murders of the Hale bloodline that continue to this day? In a 'peaceful' era?" 

Stiles sighed, "Scott, none of your textbooks come from the Hale Kingdom."

"What about from Delgado or Yukimura? Finstock even would have better information!" Scott said. 

"The McCall Kingdom took the Argent side- look at the books we have here. They're all from home, Argent, and a selected few are from Mahealani. That's not a coincidence," Stiles said, gesturing to the bookcases. "If Finstock Kingdom was more than a handful of islands, with real printing, we'd probably have some of theirs, but the others are out for political reasons." 

"B-but we're supposed to all be at _peace_. How can that ever be effective if we're ignorant about half the kingdoms?" Scott asked, discomfort turning her stomach.

Stiles licked his lips nervously, "Well, to start with, the other half probably doesn't view it as peace. I mean, we all cut them off from trading with us, which was a pretty dick move considering the plights-"

Scott pinched her nose. "How exactly do you know this?" 

Stiles waved a hand airily, “I've read my Dad's files."

Scott's eyes widened. "The confidential court ones? Stiles!" 

Stiles shrugged. "Look at it this way- I'm preparing the new Queen with better information than I was given." 

Scott's lips quirked up, as they always did, at the potential title, but this time she was thinking more of the responsibilities behind it. "I want to start theorizing about how we can fix this." 

Stiles nodded. Scott's stomach let out a loud gurgle, and they both stifled giggles. "After lunch, perhaps?" 

Scott grinned sheepishly. "I guess I didn't realize how hungry I was." 

"Time flies when you're regretting your ancestors' decisions," Stiles deadpanned as they headed down to the pantry. 

"I miss the cook," Scott complained as Stiles opened the pantry. "This is the longest I've been without barbacoa or even lamb chops."

"Spoiled," Stiles teased, checking the ripeness of the avocados before moving them to the cutting board. "I bet you don't even remember her name." 

Her eyebrows came together in thought, "She replaced the old grouch, Harris. She's younger, um... drat, I can't remember." 

Stiles shook his head and pulled out a knife. "Danielle. Grab whatever dressing you want, it's salad today." 

"Rabbit food," Scott corrected, hopping to grab a vinaigrette. "Whoever ‘saves’ me had better not be from the land of rabbit food." 

Stiles snickered. "You’re in luck- last I checked, there weren't any vegetarian kingdoms." 

"Good," Scott said, getting out bowls and forks. "That would be awkward." 

"Or," Stiles countered, amused at the mental image, "you'd get all the meat in the land. You wouldn't have to worry about ever sharing." 

Scott laughed. "Yeah, I'm sure that'd go over well. Definitely wouldn't encourage any uprisings." 

"Encourage is a strong word," Stiles said, doling out the avocado and tomato salad. "Spark might fit better." 

"Semantics," Scott replied, rolling her eyes.

Stiles shot her an evil grin as he plopped down across from her. "I can't wait until you're back in the public's eye and have to watch your words."

Scott stuck her tongue out and stole a piece of mozzarella from Stiles' dish. "Rude."

Stiles shrugged. "No wars happen if _I'm_ rude."

"Pff, that was _once_ , and it took years of Queen Thilda for the people to snap." 

"Uh huh, and you just happen to remember Thilda based on the other important things she did as Queen? Like burning their national library to the ground?" Stiles asked, cocking his eyebrow. 

Scott groaned into her palm. "I thought Queen Joyce did the book burning." 

"Nah, s’all Thilda. Joyce did delay the Enlightenment for her kingdom for a decade, though, so half points," Stiles said. 

"Awesome," Scott muttered with a sigh. 

Stiles frowned, worried. "Dude?" 

"I just... there's so much I don't know that I _should_. I feel like we could stay here for years and I still wouldn't know enough," Scott said with a frown. 

"Well, unless you plan on becoming omniscient- which as you'd know, I highly support- you're never going to know enough. That's why you get advisors," Stiles said. 

Scott's nose twitched. "I suppose." 

"The only kingdom that ever ruled without advisors was the Baccari line. Their kings and queens were arrogant and didn't want to think or double-check their choices. They were absorbed into the Delgado kingdom recently; say thirty years ago. Most of the royals were executed or ran. Prince Elean is said to have hidden the royal baby before escaping."

Scott finished her salad before responding. "So how likely is a Baccari revolt?" 

Stiles waved his hand, "Not very. Elean is married into the Yukimura line, far removed from their throne but not the court. The child never made their claim, and it'd be pretty late to now. The Hales will be up next. Queen Talia hasn't had any more children, nor remarried. And everyone knows Peter created quite a few bastards. Rule _should_ go to Peter, then Laura, then Derek, then Cora... but any of Peter's children have a decent claim, and all they would need is the public's support. Especially if Derek is unable to find his sisters and uncle, and if the bastard is older than him." 

Scott rubbed her forehead, trying to keep all the kingdoms’ royal lines straight. "How do you keep track of all this?" 

Stiles made a face; Scott laughed. "What did you think I was doing when you were learning your court manners?" 

"Catching unicorns," Scott answered with a grin. 

Stiles eyes' narrowed. " _Once_! I tried to catch one _once_!" 

"Sure, Stiles. Whatever you say." Scott patted his hand, innocent smile firmly in place. 

Stiles snorted. "I still don't get why everyone thinks it's so bloody normal that dragons and mermaids exist, but unicorns? Nah, that's just ridiculous." 

"Aw, don't pout. Maybe some will be discovered in the Land Beyond the Sea. That's where griffins and selkies and the eight-legged horses came from, right?" 

"Yeah, but only the horses were able to survive down here," Stiles said.

Scott nodded solemnly. "We'll just have to move up there then." 

"Yeah, that's a likely solu-" Stiles cut himself off when they heard a loud knock. 

Scott's eyebrows rose. "It isn't a shipment day, is it?" 

"Nope," Stiles answered. "Wanna find out who it is?" 

Scott ran a hand through her hair (it was, of course, perfect; Stiles’ handiwork always was). "Yeah, let’s." 

As they headed over to the main door, Stiles asked, "So how do you want to greet them? Role reversal? Formal? Common-like? Upside down?" 

Scott gave him an exasperated smile and grabbed his hand. "This way." And before Stiles could think about it, she opened the door. 

"Hello. I'm Danny from the Mahealani Kingdom," the stranger said cheerfully. He was tall and lean, dressed in simpler leathers than his blood warranted. Scott spotted dimples immediately, set deeply in his light ochre skin. 

Scott squeezed Stiles’ hand; the foreign Prince was way cuter than she would have guessed. "Scott and Stiles. Hi, you're really- just- hi." 

Danny tried not to smirk at her reaction, his eyes flickering down to their hands. "So have you two been inside the whole time?" 

"Yup," Stiles answered, popping the p. 

"Well, if you're interested in going on a date outside, we're pretty close to the shoreline," Danny offered. 

"A date?" Scott squeaked, a light blush unfurling across his cheeks. 

Danny grinned. "Yeah, a date- you, me, Stiles, and the sea. The steed I rode here is fairly quick too." 

"Oh? What breed?" Stiles asked.

"She's a mutt- a cross between the eight-legged northeners and a warmblood," Danny said. 

Stiles’ eyes lit up and he grinned, squeezing Scott's hand. "Awesome." 

"Take us to your steed, then," Scott said, her grin matching Stiles’. The three rode off into the hot afternoon sun, galloping towards the sea. And as she sat between her best friend and a Prince, their warmth and bodies steadying her, Scott felt ready for her next adventure.


End file.
